


Therapy Pets

by InksandPens



Category: Coco (2017)
Genre: but she needed to be out of the picture for Pepita to do her thing, honestly it's probably OOC for Imelda to leave him alone in this moment, if you can tell me how to type Spanish accents into the rich text I'll go back and fix it, so I tried to justify it, this hasn't been proofread, trying to find the right balance between omnicience and empathy for the alebrijes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-17
Updated: 2018-03-17
Packaged: 2019-04-01 10:55:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13996764
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InksandPens/pseuds/InksandPens
Summary: This was just an excuse to have Pepita nuzzling at Hector. I had an image in my head but I can't draw giant feline alebrijes very well (or skeletons for that matter) so I had to write it instead, and to do that the moment needed context, so it grew from there. I don't even know if it's good context. Oh well.





	Therapy Pets

The golden tremors had slowed to a stop, but he was too tired to fully appreciate what that meant. All he knew was that he wouldn't be leaving just yet.

He also knew Imelda, knew that she was here. She was holding his hand in both of hers. Actually holding him. Something about that was important. This wasn't normal. He grimaced slightly. What happened?

Hector searched the corners of his dusky mind in an attempt to recall what had led to this.

Golden tremors. Golden tremors meant being forgotten. Except they had stopped, so he wasn't being forgotten? Coco remembered?

Coco. His girl. She remembered him. Miguel had gotten her to remember.

Miguel. The living boy. Back before sunrise. He made it. Ernesto hadn't-

Hector felt his frame rattle in a jolt that had nothing to do with being in the throes of the Final Death. 

" _Esta bien, mi amor._ " Two hands squeezed around his. He had thought he wouldn't feel those hands again. It was a blessing.

Right. To give Miguel his blessing. _Their_ blessing. So he could go back to his family. _Their_ family. 

_My familia. My great-great grandson. My Coco. My Imelda._

Drawing one more shuddering breath, he opened his eyes. 

Imelda wasn't actually looking at him. She had turned to glance over her shoulder, at what Hector wasn't sure. He could hear something. It sounded like people. A lot of people. Some of them were saying her name. Asking her what to do. 

They needed her. "Go," he exhaled. He could barely hear himself. He wondered if she had, over the clamor.

She had. She turned back to him. Oh no, she looked so worried. " _Que?_ "

He breathed again. "They need you."

She glanced over again, even as she shook her head. "No, no, what about...?"

"I'm...still here." He paused; smiling took a little effort. "I'm not...going anywhere?"

Something settled behind her eyes. Bending a little, she pressed his hand to her lips. He watched as her features schooled themselves when she let his hand down onto his ribcage and stood up, moving to intercept the voices. 

Hector shuffled one leg. Pulled it up, bending a knee. Curled his toes. Those voices were a lot louder, actually, now that he couldn't see her anymore. There were so many. He could hear her voice among them, now, and now over them. Giving directions. Other, more questioning tones. Firm answers. Snuffling.

Snuffling? Blinking, Hector only had time for a minute turn of his head before his vision was encapsulated with neon. Startled, he stiffened.

This wasn't any alebrije. Unfortunately he was still too out of it for any other reaction. All he could do was try to hold still as the enormous feline gave him a once-over. He'd been on the receiving end of her roars before, and he wasn't eager to repeat that experience. But in his current state he couldn't exactly get away if she _did_ decide that he needed to be dealt with. 

He tried to keep his breathing steady as she nosed at his figure. He squinted when she blew air in his face, displacing his bangs. She moved down to his ribs, and didn't react when he gave an involuntary gasp as she got a little close to the broken one. Almost methodically, she kept going until she reached where his stomach would've been. Her nose twitched in the empty space. 

Was that a whine?

Hector and the terrifying big cat both glanced to the side. That's right, she wasn't the only alebrije up here. The musician watched blearily as the two spirit guides had some sort of exchange through looks and little noises. The winged cat went back to sniffing at his not-stomach. She huffed. Dante panted. 

For a moment, nothing. 

Then suddenly, the xolo ran out of his field of vision. 

 _No, no, don't-_ ...well, there went his support network. 

Hector felt the facsimile of a gulp as a large weight settled on the surface beside him. Bracing himself, he looked back up at Imelda's alebrije. (He still wasn't sure if this was _his wife's_ alebrije.) If she was sitting down, then she probably wasn't going to attack him, right? Her nose still hovered above him, but she'd stopped her active investigation. A stalemate.

What was her name again? "Pepita?"

Suddenly, something large, rough, and warm scraped across his head. 

"Akpth! Okay, _si_ , hello to you too." Hector felt himself giving an almost incredulous blink when she responded with a purr. Well, then. 

Cautiously, he reached up towards her chin. Bone met technicolor fur. His fingers contracted automatically in the reactive scratching movement. The purring got louder. His other hand joined. 

This definitely beat having to lay around listening to the noise. 

No one paid them any mind, except for Imelda, when she took a furtive glance back at her husband to make sure he was alright and discovered him dealing with a lapful of alebrije. Nodding to herself, she turned back to the others with renewed vigor. 


End file.
